


Before Tomorrow

by Mazen



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Wake-Up Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22159081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazen/pseuds/Mazen
Summary: Christine wakes up and finds her husband sleeping behind her - an unusual occurrence. Certainly one she takes advantage of.
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 6
Kudos: 125





	Before Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt on tumblr: "Then you better make sure I can't walk tomorrow."

She had no idea what time it was when she woke. She only took notice of the cool and firm presence behind her, telling her that Erik was still sleeping. It was a rare occurrence; he slept so little compared to other people, including herself. She'd only seen him asleep a handful of times, all of them at his pipe organ while he had been in the middle of composing. He always came to bed with her and stayed until she slept, and he was often there when she woke, but clearly wide awake. 

She took the opportunity to enjoy his long arms wrapped around her, his legs molding into the position behind hers. He was wearing his night wear, soft Persian silk that was much thinner than her warm cotton nightgown, along with her chemise underneath. She often chastinated him for wearing so little; he was cold as ice already, there was no need to make it worse, but he insisted, claiming it was the only thing he could bear to sleep in when he actually went to bed. 

However, this morning - or perhaps night still - she found herself very pleased by his thin clothes because it made her acutely aware of the pressing length that lay against her lower back. It was a delicious feeling, surprisingly as it usually was on her front that she liked to feel him. Her backside was mostly for fondling which he enjoyed very much while she preferred his attention on other parts of her body. But now, she found herself becoming aroused by his shaft digging into her from behind. 

Reluctant to wake him, but wanting to increase her pleasure, she began pushing slightly back against the hardness, mimicking the push and pull of love-making. She didn't know what she expected to achieve, only that she needed this. One of her hands traveled to her breasts, kneading them, imagining that it was his hands. 

She was shocked into stillness when she heard a wanton moan behind her, though the sound increased the wetness in her drawers. "Christine," he murmured, possibly still in his sleep, and reached down to grasp her hip. Slowly, he began pushing against her in the same movement as she had, and she met him with every push. He groaned against her ear, his shaft harder and more insistent than before. He pulled her hips forcefully backwards to meet him, and in spite of her struggle to keep quiet, a loud moan escaped her, echoing in their bedroom.

It was obvious that it woke him. Kisses were bestowed on her shoulders and neck, humming vibrating against her skin. She let herself go, diving into the sensations he brought out in her. His hand moved from her hip to her breasts, expert hands drawing sounds and shivers from her that she'd never imagined before he'd come to her bed and consummated their marriage. He still found new ways of pleasuring her, and apparently, feeling him stiff against her behind was one of them. She felt so overwhelmed, yet empty, longing for something to fill her. 

He must've understood because a long, boney hand traveled up her leg, over her thigh to delve into her drawers and the slickness inside them; she gasped as he reached her and he responded with a sinful moan. "Oh god, you're soaking, my sweet. Positively drenched for my cock, that precious little cunt." She cried out his name as he dove two fingers inside her, curling them and massaging a spot only he could find. She barely noticed the rustling of silk behind her nor the way her nightgown and chemise were pushed up to expose her skin. 

It wasn't until he removed his fingers and her behind met hard, throbbing flesh that she realized his intention. She wanted to turn around, let him take her as he usually did, but instead, he held her firmly in place as he scooted down on the bed. Then, she felt him from behind, positioning his shaft at her opening and dipping the tip in her flooding channel. "You're dripping for me, aren't you?" he growled in her ear and she nodded frantically. She'd never needed anything as urgently as now. "Beg for my cock, wife!" he ordered before biting her earlobe. 

Christine felt lightheaded from lust, her blood rushing through her body. "Oh Erik, _please_! she begged, pushing against him to make him enter her. Her hands reached for the little pearl at her lower lips, what he called a shortcut to her pleasure, but his hand caught her wrists and raised them above her head.

"I said 'beg for my cock'!" he commanded, slapping her bottom hard enough to sting - and to allow pleasure to follow. "Say it!" The hand, that had slapped her, reached for her breasts, tugging at her sensitive nipples. She panted as she struggled to say the crude word she'd never used before. 

"Please, Erik, let me have your cock," the word felt strange in her mouth, but it was forgotten as he instantly gripped her hip once more and in a violent thrust filled her with his magnificent shaft.

Oh, it truly was a cock: long and wide with bulging veins from the base to the angry red head. She'd been so frightened on their wedding night when she had caught a glimpse of it, despite his attempt to hide it. She had been sure that he would damage her, tear her delicate flesh. But he had spent much time preparing her, making her slick and relaxed, his fingers slowly getting her used to the invasion, so when they had become one at last, it hadn't hurt. The first few times hadn't lasted long, but they had assured her that he could make love to her without her having anything to fear.

But he wasn't making love to her now; he was taking her hard from behind, his cock pulsing as he thrust it deeply into her repeatedly while he held her tethered by her wrists. In spite of his hold, she pushed her bottom into his thrusts, needing the friction. "Take all of me," he groaned, "you're mine to command." and her body responded to his words. She was quickly reaching her crisis - crying out his name and begging him to keep going - and he continued his assault until sparks flew through her body and every muscle in her body contracted around him. 

He cried out her name as he thrust into her a few times more, his hand letting her wrists go and finding her clit to throw her into another climax before he swelled inside her, moaning loudly as spurts of his warm seed filled her; her inner walls milking him of every last drop. 

They came down together; she took his hand from between her legs and kissed it tenderly, as he nuzzled his noseless face into her back, kissing and licking her sweaty skin. After a few moments, she heard his breathing deepen as he fell asleep, his flaccid length still inside her. 

She caught a glimpse of the clock, noting that it was only midnight. Closing her eyes, she wondered if he would wake erect inside of her and take her again. She certainly wouldn't mind. Tomorrow only held the promise of a boring rehearsal. Perhaps, her husband would make sure she couldn't walk the long way up to the opera tomorrow. 


End file.
